


For Now, I'll Do the Best I Can

by SpaceKase



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood, Death, F/F, Frightening Imagery, Gen, Gore, Multi, Murder, Original Character(s), Other, SO much child endangerment, although it's...not going to end well unfortunately, child endangerment, dadvid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceKase/pseuds/SpaceKase
Summary: Zombies are passe. Everyone knows it, these days.Which might explain why not as many are prepared to deal with it when it finally DOES happen, as one might think.Of course, the human race is nothing, if not resourceful and stubborn. Here are the stories of a few pockets that remain of society, in the seven years since it started.





	For Now, I'll Do the Best I Can

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not, I started writing this during the summer of 2017, just before Gwen Gets a Job became available for non-First members. So I've basically had this for nearly a year. Quite a few zombie apocalypse AUs, as well as apocalyptic AUs in general, have popped up since then; I'm gonna be frank, I think most of them are way more creative than the drivel I'm dumping here. Even so, I've decided to share this, because this chapter sure isn't getting any more done.
> 
> I fully intended to make it a full-chapter story, and I still do, but once again, I'm a piece of garbage, and I don't know what this update schedule will be. I have a story map in my head, but very little follow-through. 
> 
> As always, bear with me.
> 
> (also: the major character death does NOT happen in this chapter. Everyone is all right, here; please don't worry. There's plenty more story to go.)

The snarling, grey-skinned creature strained against its seatbelt. Its teeth had yellowed considerably, but still looked pale against its skin. Its broken, bloody fingernails scratched against the window, bloodshot eyes focused in starved rage on the person on the other side.

“Who do you think he was?” The fear of the whole situation had worn off for David; looking at the undead creature in the car, all he could really feel was sadness. Of course, the relative safety helped; the thing was in _there_ , stuck behind a car door and a seatbelt.

That safety would be challenged in a minute, if Gwen was successful.

His former coworker had decided to forego her iconic ponytail in favor of a green bandana that she’d tied around her head to keep her hair out of her eyes. He still saw some flyaway curls from where her bangs refused to cooperate on the other side of the car, though. “I have no idea,” she said. “Um…a middle-aged white guy?”

She seemed to be correct, though it was kind of hard to tell, after this kind of decomposition. David hoped they could reach its… _his_ wallet, as well as have a better look at the suitcase they saw in the backseat. Maybe they could make a grave for him, after…putting him down.

These zombies or ghouls or whatever people called them nowadays were no longer human, but they _used_ to be. They needed to remember that.

It seemed like a fate worse than death. It was the _least_ they could do.

“Goodness,” he breathed, running a hand down the side of the window. “I can’t believe how fast this… _whatever_ this is…has spread.”

“Yeah,” said Gwen. She didn’t appear to be having much success in picking the lock on the other side of the car. “You might expect this in the cities, but _here?_ This is a rural area. If it’s spread _this_ far, _this_ fast, to a place like _this_ …”

David grimaced and nodded. “Right. Stay away from cities. I’d been planning on that, anyway; it’ll be like an extended camping trip.”

Gwen gave him a wry grin over the car’s hood. “Heh. Only _you_ would look at the bright side of a fucking zombie apocalypse.”

David shrugged with a smile. “What good will panicking and despairing do right now? We need to keep our heads on straight.” His smile drooped a bit, but didn’t disappear. “If not for _our_ sakes, then for Max’s.” It wasn’t that he’d ever expected a situation like this to happen; he’d always thought the Quartermaster’s constant talk of ‘The End Days’ was nonsense. But if it _had_ to happen, he’d never expected to be left in charge of a child.

It made him less afraid, and more determined.

Gwen bit her lip and looked to the side, looking kind of guilty. “Right.” She perked up. “Speaking of panic and despair, where _is_ the lil’ shit?”

David blinked. “Oh, _dear_ …” He knew Max was independent, but he’d never expected that he would wander off on his own in a situation like _this_. It was so much more _dangerous_ now. “I’ll go look for him. You stay put; see if you have any luck with that lock.”

Gwen nodded. “Don’t count on it, but I’ll try.”

David nodded before running down the line of backed-up cars.

“Max?” David called. “Max!” He tried to keep his voice quiet; noise seemed to attract these things from what he’d seen. Still, he wanted the boy to hear him. He kept his eyes wide open, hoping to catch a glimpse of thick black curls or a blue hood.

David heaved a sigh of relief when he finally saw him. Max was staring into the window of one of the cars frozen in this traffic line-up.

David quickened his pace to get to him. He let his hand hover over the boy’s shoulder, but decided against actually touching it. He’d _never_ seen that look in his eyes before. “Max…?”

“I recognized the car.” Max was quieter than David had ever heard him.

David chanced a look through the window. A body sat in the front seat, its head bloody and beaten beyond all recognition. Tilting his head a little, David saw that the rearview mirror had been removed, and that the passenger’s door was open.

Between the gruesome evidence left behind, and the fact that Max recognized this car, a sickening feeling settled in David’s stomach as he began to piece together what must have happened.

“Max, do…did you know this man?” David actually _did_ put a hand on Max’s shoulder then, unsure of what else to do; pull him close and shove his head against his chest, or push him away from the ghastly sight, or just cover his eyes with one of his hands.

 _Anything,_ so he wouldn’t have to witness this any longer.

Max moved so suddenly, David almost didn’t realize what was happening; the boy had thrown off his hand, jumped over the car’s hood, and was examining the open door on the other side before David managed to get out “Max--!”

To his horror, the boy then ran in the opposite direction from the car, further and further away from him.

David allowed himself to curse—just this once—as he jumped over the trunk of the car and after Max.

A lump grew in his throat as he realized what Max had seen. The rear view mirror had been dropped on the other side of the car, right next to a rather long trail of blood that lead from the passenger’s side of the car into the woods on the other side of the road.

_And Max had followed it in._

David ran faster than he ever had in his life. Even the shade provided by the trees and the knowledge that Max had, apparently, been paying attention in Search and Rescue Camp couldn’t make him feel better right then.

He finally looked up from the trail. Max knelt in front of a deathly pale woman, who sat leaned against a tree. David approached quietly and cautiously. “Max?”

“Maggie…” Max said softly.

David blinked. “You call your mother ‘Maggie?’”

The minute they both looked up at him, David realized what a dummy he was. The short, fat, brunette white woman clutching her bloody bicep looked _nothing_ like Max.

Despite the lack of physical resemblance between the two of them, they both had the same expression of ‘What an _idiot_ ’ as they looked at him. David had grown quite familiar with that expression; he’d worked with Gwen for years, after all.

“I’m not his birth mom,” said the woman. She let out a rattling breath. “I… _we_ were fostering him for…God, I don’t know…”

“Four months,” said Max. “She adopted me two…no, five months ago. Including the months I was at camp.”

The lump in David’s throat grew bigger. That wasn’t a normal amount of blood spurting from between Maggie’s fingers.

David _knew_ what had caused it.

He _knew_. He might have laughed at it all…it was almost funny. Max’s parents _hadn’t_ forgotten him at camp, after all. They’d been driving to pick him up, and they’d gotten stuck in this traffic jam.

And _this_ was how Max had to find out.

The woman gulped, and let go of her bicep. The chunk of flesh missing from her arm was about the size and shape of a human jaw; the jagged edges looked like they’d been caused by human teeth. “You know what happened, right, Max?”

The boy’s black curls bobbed in a curt nod.

Maggie took a deep breath, and reached out her left arm. The one that hadn’t been bitten. “C’mere, you.”

To David’s amazement, Max practically threw herself at her side, burying his face in her shoulder. David got a bit closer, just enough to hear her gently shush him.

“I’m sorry,” she was whispering. “I’m so sorry.”

That lump in David’s throat had gotten too big. He swallowed around it, and walked a short distance away from the scene. Not too far away; he would have to remind Max to…get away from her. Once _it_ happened. But he wanted to give them their privacy, as well. Let them say their last words to each other.

David still wasn’t convinced that this whole thing wasn’t a nightmare. He pinched himself to make sure. In doing so, he saw the blood that spattered his boots shirt.

“Hey, you?”

David perked up a bit, turning to the sound of the voice. It looked like Maggie was struggling with every bit of her strength to keep her head up. “That a gun in your belt?”

It was. It had been Mr. Campbell’s. David _hated_ guns; he _hated_ that he’d found it on the camp premises, and he hated it even _more_ that he’d had to use it. He nodded at Maggie.

With one more wet breath, Maggie patted Max’s back. “Go on,” David heard her murmur. “I don’t want you to see this.”

Oh. Oh _no_. She wasn’t suggesting…?

Max refused to look him in the eye as he ran behind a nearby tree.

David took a deep breath, keeping his eyes on Maggie’s as he took a few steps closer to her. Up close, he realized that she was in much worse shape than he’d thought; her skin was practically paper sheet white, bordering on blue-grey, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the blood loss, or the bite. He had no idea how this whole thing worked. “Miss?” David’s voice didn’t shake at all. He was almost proud of that.

She managed to smile up at him. “You must be David. Max told me all about you.”

David managed to smile back. “Only good things, I hope?”

She laughed. “You’re cute.” The laugh turned into a cough. “I know he’s a pill, but he _does_ look up to you. You’ve been good for him. Just don’t expect him to admit it.” Her smile disappeared. “You…you know what you have to do, right?”

David shook his head, maybe more fiercely than he meant to. “No, please…I…I _can’t_ …” Bashing Mr. Campbell’s head in with a lamp and shooting that straggler outside camp had been disturbingly easy; they had already been dead. They weren’t _them_ anymore, _and_ they’d posed immediate danger to people near him.

But _this?_ _This_ was different.

“Please!” Maggie’s voice was growing raspier by the second. Despite her fatigue, there was distinct desperation on her face. The whites of her eyes were beginning to turn yellow. “I can’t do it myself. I’m, uh… _unarmed_.” She let out a small chuckle as she gazed at the gaping wound on her right arm. “And…and I don’t want to be one of those _things._ ” She took another deep breath. She seemed to be having more and more trouble getting in air. “Watching my boyfriend turn…Having to…”

David nodded, kneeling in front of her and placing a hand on the shoulder that wasn’t injured. “I know, Miss. I know. I… _I_ had to, too. Do that. To someone I cared about.”

Despite how shady Mr. Campbell’s exploits had all been, he realized that he still meant the words. Gwen had once called him an amoral, pompous windbag, and David knew she was right.

Mr. Campbell _had_ been an amoral, pompous windbag…that had given David his purpose in life.

What remained of him deserved to be buried on Camp Campbell’s grounds, at the very least.

Maggie’s expression was grave. “So you _know_ how awful it is.” She leaned the back of her head against the tree. David’s eyes began to sting. “You’ll take care of ‘im, won’t you?”

He blinked. “Max?” he asked.

Maggie sighed and leaned her head against the tree. “He needs you. You’d know what you were doing with him…he’d be _safe_ with you.” She opened her eyes. Even _that_ looked like it took a lot of effort. “I’m sorry…I _know_ that’s a lot to ask…”

David squeezed her shoulder, silencing her. “I _will,_ Miss. I promise.”

He would have done it, even if she _hadn’t_ asked him to.

With that, she gave one last smile, closed her eyes, and slumped against the tree trunk. David reached for the gun just as she breathed her last.

It was quick. She wasn’t moving, so her head was an easy target.

David didn’t want to think about how easy it was. He didn’t want to think about what this whole situation was doing to him.

Maybe that was a good thing, though. Because now, he had to think about Max.

The boy was still behind that tree, curled up, arms wrapped around his knees, head buried in them. His wild hair poked out from his hood, completely hiding his face.

David didn’t think he’d ever seen him look that small before. “Max…” he said, realizing that he had no idea what else what to say.

What were you _supposed_ to say to someone who’d just experienced this? Someone so _young_ , at that?

“Is it over? Is she dead?”

David hadn’t expected him to put it so bluntly. The kid was fluent in sarcasm and snide remarks; if he ever put things straight, it was usually laden with profanity.

Max typically wasn’t fazed by…well, _anything_. Granted, David was sure a lot of that was a show, since Max _did_ care about what people thought of him, even if he wouldn’t admit it, but on a whole, he was so incredibly brave and tough.

He still was, but it was obvious that this whole situation had affected him more than David would have thought.

It had only been two weeks, and already he felt like a failure as a guardian.

“Yes, Max. She…she didn’t want to be one of them.”

Gosh, what else was he _supposed_ to say?

“I wouldn’t, either.” Max curled in on himself even tighter. David hadn’t thought that was possible.

Unsure of what else to do, David sat down next to him. “I’m so sorry.”

Max uncurled, just a little bit. David wasn’t sure what he’d expected; tears? A running nose? But no; the boy’s normally fiery eyes just looked dull and blank. “No more or less fucked than anything else right now.”

David grimaced. He didn’t like this; he didn’t _want_ Max to get used to this. “I…I suppose you’re right.” He didn’t bother to admonish him for his language. “Do you want to talk about--?”

“No. Nothing _to_ talk about.” Max stood up, then, making David look directly into his eyes. “We should keep moving, right? See if Gwen’s having any luck.”

David frowned. “Max…”

“Quit saying my name; it’s gonna start sounding weird.” Max gripped the straps of his backpack, expression still blank.

Honestly, _that_ concerned David far more than if the boy were a sobbing wreck. “All right. We’ll head back, then.” He still hoped that Max would talk to him, when the time was right.

They’d been walking for what felt like a full minute before the sound of a car alarm thundered through the air. The two of them froze before looking at each other in horror.

“Gwen!” they shouted before taking off into another sprint.

The sight wasn’t good, to say the least; despite how fast everything had happened, the creatures had already gathered in a large crowd around the noisy car. Gwen, always resourceful and able to think on her feet, had climbed on top of the car. Thankfully, the threat these things held seemed to be limited to how many of them there were in one place, as well as their teeth and blood, and the fact that they were about as strong as the average human being. None of them seemed to be too terribly bright; not one of them had thought to climb up after her.

Not that that made things much better; Gwen’s wide-eyed gaze at the creatures and their rotting hands told David that she was just as aware of her predicament as they were.

“Gwen!” he cried. If Max reprimanded him for raising his voice and risking more of the ghouls noticing _them_ , too, David didn’t hear it; as it stood, no one could hear much of anything over the car alarm.

They’d stopped by this car because it looked old enough to not have a car alarm installed. _Why_ hadn’t they thought about the possibility of the other cars around it?

A brush against his arm broke David out of his horrified stupor. Almost without thinking, he grabbed Max and scrambled up about six cars away from where Gwen was.

“Jesus _fuck_ …” The only reason why David heard Max hiss this was because it was directly in his ear. “What do we do?”

It was at this point that Gwen looked up from the horde grabbing at her ankles. Thank goodness she wore those thick, heavy boots, David thought to himself.  From here, he saw her eyes widen, then narrow. She then cupped her hands around her mouth and began to shout.

“Get Max out of here! Get back to camp; I’ll try to meet you there!”

“No!” cried Max, starting to struggle in David’s arm. “We can’t just fucking _leave_ her there!” If the circumstances had been any better, David’s heart might have warmed at how much the boy seemed to _want_ to help Gwen, despite how horribly he’d treated her over the past three months.

At that particular moment, though, only one thought ran through David’s head. With his right arm, he reached for the gun in his belt. Thanking his lucky stars for all the camp activities in his life that had prepared him for this moment, he threw it with trajectory and force that he knew were _just_ right.

Gwen hadn’t been involved in as many camps as David had, for as _long_ as he had, but she still knew a lot. She caught the thing with only minor fumbling; as soon as it was steady in her hands, she aimed it right between one of the thing’s eyes and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot added more cacophony to the car alarm. It drew more of the ghouls to her.

Of course, _now_ Gwen had a way to defend herself against them.

“Get the fuck out of here!” she shouted, pulling the trigger again. “I’ll be fine!”

David needed no further telling. He turned around and ran in the opposite direction, relieved to find that the horde thinned out the further and further he ran.

He only put Max down after he’d slid down from the line of cars and told him “Don’t look back.” The boy’s protests slowly died down as they continued to run.

\---

“You think she’ll be okay?”

David looked up from the radio he’d been tampering with. The poor thing had obviously seen much better days, but it was one of the few things at the camp that continued to work even a decade after it had been created. He’d found a news station on it, though he was still working on getting it to a point where there was no static. “Hmm?”

Max gazed out the window. Summer was coming to an end, which meant the nights were growing longer, so the sky now shone purple and orange. “Do you think Gwen’s gonna be okay?” he repeated. David suspected that there’d usually be more sarcasm and bite to that, but right now it sounded oddly genuine.

His heart ached. It had only been two weeks, and already Max seemed to be changing, being forced to grow up in this world. David wasn’t sure if it was for the best. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, Kiddo. She’s smart; she knows how to take care of herself.”

“The dead just came back to life and started fucking _eating_ people, David; pretty sure no one knows _shit_ , anymore.”

“Language,” David gently chided, trying to ignore the fact that the boy had a point.

It had all happened so _fast;_ it had taken them completely by surprise. He _knew_ they weren’t the only ones; there _had_ to be other people alive elsewhere.

There just _had_ to be.

“Like _that_ fucking matters anymore.” Max seemed to have gained a bit of the fire that made him Max, in that statement. It made David smile, despite everything.

A moment of garbled, static-y news commentary on the new epidemic passed before Max spoke again. “We shouldn’t have left her. She’s the worst, but she still doesn’t deserve to get eaten alive.”

David looked up from the radio again. “What would _you_ have done differently?”

That wasn’t what he’d wanted to say, but the words were out before he could think properly.  

Max shrugged. “We should have at least tried to get to her. Even if we got eaten, we would’ve fucking _tried.”_

David gazed at the boy for a long time. Several thoughts ran through his head, but one was making itself louder than all the others.

He’d made his choice. It hadn’t been a pleasant one, but he now knew that it was the right one.

“I had to get you to safety, Max. You’re smart…you’re independent. You’re strong. But you’re ten, and Gwen is… _not,”_ David finished rather lamely.

Max narrowed his piercing eyes at him. “Really? _That’s_ what you’re going with?”

Max didn’t believe him. He now knew that Max had had problems at home; he was probably struggling to believe that any adult would care that much about him.

That was all right. David could be patient; Max could take all the time he needed to believe him. “Yes,” he said simply. He had nothing else to say; he didn’t feel any need to defend himself further.

This had been the right thing to do. An adult was out there, in the world, with a gun; meanwhile, the ten-year-old was now with _him_ , behind strong log walls, in a secluded area in dense woods. Those things would have trouble reaching them…trouble reaching _Max_ , and even if they found the Counselors’ Cabin, they’d have to claw through several sturdy walls.

Really; what other decision had there been to make?

Max narrowed his eyes at him for what felt like a full two minutes before he turned his sharp gaze to his knees. “Fuck everything,” David heard him mutter.

David turned his attention back to the radio, trying to ignore how bitter and angry Max had sounded. The kid was ten years old…that kind of tone wasn’t supposed to come from _anyone_ , let alone someone that young.

A few tiny turns of the dials on the radio finally gave him the clear sound of what he’d been wanting for the past few days. The gentlemen and ladies on the other end were far more well-composed than David would have thought, under these circumstances.

It was odd, but it comforted him.

“You think Gwen would mind if I used her laptop?”

David looked up from the radio. Max’s eyes were on said laptop right now, now with a spark of curiosity.

“ _Yes,_ Max, I _do._ Gwen wouldn’t like it if she knew you’d invaded her privacy that way.”

“She doesn’t have to _know_ , David. I won’t tell ‘er if you don’t.”

Before David could protest any further, Max had opened the computer. “If the internet’s still running, other people have probably talked about this, too. Recorded shit and shit like that; maybe someone’s even figured out something useful.”

David pouted. Much as he hated poking his nose where it didn’t belong—especially where Gwen was concerned, since Gwen had always been a pretty private person—he had to admit that Max had a point. Heck, the kid _often_ had good points; David sometimes worried that he was too clever for his own good. So he didn’t say anything as Max typed something.

"Fucking seriously? Gwen’s password is ‘DavidTennantsAss?’” Max’s snickers made David smile, despite himself. It was good to see him laugh, even if it _was_ at someone else’s expense. David was fairly certain he could count the number of times that he’d seen Max smile on one hand.

“Thank God; the internet’s still up. You know, they never bring that up in post-apocalyptic stories…” David watched the corners of Max’s mouth turn down. “People are calling it ‘a new strain of Rabies?’ _Seriously?_ ”

“It’s only happened in the last few days, Max; I’m sure there’s a lot we have to learn about it, still.” Hopefully there was a crack team of scientists employed by the military in a safe space, somewhere, who were working on a cure.

“Yeah. Maybe.” The way Max said it made it clear that he didn’t believe that.

David wasn’t sure _he_ did, either, honestly.

Turning back to the radio, he fiddled with the dials until the volume had turned up. Not too loud, but loud enough for the two of them to hear.

The worry they both shared—about Gwen’s safety, about their situation outside—waned a bit as they fell into a silence that felt too comfortable.

All they could do was wait, and hope.

**Author's Note:**

> As this is a zombie apocalypse story, there WILL be blood, and gore, and frightening and gross imagery, as well as a ton of violence that tends to come with that territory. I'll be mindful, and try to tag any and everything that can be potentially triggering, but in case I miss anything, PLEASE let me know.


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